


grandeur of growth

by TheGodWith5Yen



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Artist Cody, Bonding, Brotherly Love, Canon Compliant, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Gen, Mando'a Language (Star Wars), Mentions of Death, Needles, POV CC-2224 | Cody, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 13:55:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30022812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGodWith5Yen/pseuds/TheGodWith5Yen
Summary: “You know, if you ever get tired of drawing plain old cats, you should try drawing me. I’m much more handsome than any animal you can find in the datapad archives.”Kote lightly kicked at Rex’s thigh. “Well, I have quite a lot of you, don’t worry.”That had his little brother perking up, a grin on his face. “Wait, really? Can—can I see?”Kote looked at Rex’s wide brown eyes, the genuine curiosity and happiness in them, and smiled as he moved to grab his hidden stash of flimsiplast from his sheets. He had sorted them together by folding them into different parts—one with the animals Kote had drawn, one with guns and equipment, one of his brothers, one with the trainers and long-necks (that pile was decidedly smaller than the others)._________________________________________________________________OR: Cody, art, and some ways it brought him closer to the people around him
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody & Ahsoka Tano, CC-2224 | Cody & CT-7567 | Rex, CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 68





	grandeur of growth

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This turned out longer than expected but ummm hope you all like it! This is for day one: bonds of Commander Cody Week in what is probably the most vague and loose interpretation lol <3 The title was supposed to be a placeholder for something else that fit the story but then i was like this title is too cool not to use so <3
> 
> The story starts with Cody being around 6 (12 years) and just goes from there.
> 
> edit: I'm so tired today I had to edit one line of the summary like three times today bare with me

Flimsiplast, CC-2224 learned, was odd. 

Unlike a datapad, flimsiplast would bunch up or shift if not properly held down. It had frustrated CC-2224 to the point where he gripped the pencil in his hand until his knuckles turned pale and nearly threw himself out of his bunk in the rage he felt when the flimsiplast had ripped in the middle of his drawing when he pressed the eraser-end of the pencil too hard. Jango had given CC-2224’s batchmates a large stack of flimisiplast, pencils, crayons, and markers as a gift. CC-1010 had taken a piece, wrote his designation number across it, and promptly began to write with ease (CC-1010  _ did  _ have nice handwriting; he would curl the letters and write them small and neat enough that they were readable, it looked way better than CC-2224’s own block letter handwriting). Other of CC-2224’s brothers had looked curiously at the flimisplast, but left them alone or had started to fold the flimsiplast up into different sizes. 

CC-2224 grabbed the ripped flimisplast, crumbled it up in his hand until it was roughly the size of a droid popper, and tossed it straight at a sleeping brother's head. That caused some snickers when the brother startled awake and threw the flimsiplast at another brother, somehow getting the balled-up flimsiplast in his open mouth. CC-2224 spared them a glance before grabbing another piece of flimsiplast and trying again. 

And again. 

And again.

It took a while, but CC-2224 eventually got the hang of it and was able to draw a pretty decent approximation of a DC-15 Blaster Rifle, then a Sidearm Blaster. He tried from different angles and perspectives—this was how it looked when he held it in front of his chest, how it looked strapped to his waist. CC-2224 grinned, even as the lights overhead began to dim and his brothers began to get ready to sleep for the night, and continued to draw.

As time passed, CC-2224 became Kote. 

He had proudly introduced himself as so to Jango, who had smiled tightly at him and set his hand on his shoulder, before walking away with little Boba (sweet and small and with sweaty curls that stuck to his forehead) asleep in his arms. Kote swallowed the pang of jealousy he felt at seeing little Boba being held so gently and instead relished in the warmth of the touch, the acknowledgement. 

That night, Kote drew Boba on the stores of flimsiplast he kept hidden in between his sheets. He drew the softness of his cheeks and the way his hair fell close to his shoulders. He drew how Boba had been pressed against Jango’s beskar’gam, entirely comfortable and safe in Jango’s arms. Kote stared at it, tracing the soft lines that connected Boba’s cheek to Jango’s chestplate, and breathed in. He imagined that it was him in the man’s arms. 

Then Kote blinked, wiped at his eyes, and folded the flimsiplast up so he did not have to look at what he had drawn. He began to draw a cadet he met, CT-7567, not too much younger than Kote and with a spunk to him that made Kote just a tad afraid it would get him in trouble. Good kid though. Funny, too. 

Kote drew mythosaur skulls and, eventually, what mythosaurs might have looked like. It was difficult to know what an extinct animal looked like, Kote had learned, and reconstructions made of them might not necessarily be true. If only it was possible to travel into the past and see them in person, Kote could only imagine how beautiful and amazing they had to have been. Large and frightening. Everything he came up with looked awkward and silly, but Kote enjoyed it.

He began to draw more animals—tooka cats, nerfs, rib-cats, nexu, tusk cats, even shaak. Kote liked to draw felines the most, finding the way their bodies could curve and twist interesting to get down. Hopefully, one day, he would see some of these animals in person. Though he doubted he would have the time to sit and study them like he did with a datapad, especially once the war started. Dread pooled his stomach—would Kote have to give up on drawing once the war began?

It was the only release he had. Even if it was technically against the rules, Kote had his sanctuary within his drawings. He couldn’t imagine not having this one simple escape after experiencing a tried and true battle (it would be much worse than battle simulations, that Kote knew from the stories he had heard from the Alpha-class troopers who had been told hundreds of stories from Jango). Drawing made Kote feel calmer, all that mattered was getting down what he saw in his mind right. He didn’t have to think too hard; he didn’t have to dwell on the aches and pains of his body and soul. 

Rex was sitting with his legs crossed on Kote’s pod, watching as Kote drew with careful strokes. The name was new, the third one that Rex had chosen for himself, and it seemed like this was the one that was going to stick for good. It was a nice name, though, really, not as good as Kote, obviously. Rex moved closer to Kote and set his chin on his shoulder. 

“You’re pretty good at that.” When Kote just grunted in response, Rex moved and bit at his forearm, hard enough that Kote dropped his pencil and shifted to get his vod’ika into a headlock. The two began to wrestle around, Kote yelled, “di’kut” at Rex as he tried to tickle at his sides and pinch at soft spots. “Okay, okay, okay, ke’pare, ke’pare! Gedet’ye!”

Kote gave Rex one last pinch with a triumphant grin on his face. “Serves you right di’kut.  _ I’m  _ the ori’vod here, which makes me stronger and better.”

“And arrogant,” Rex breathed out as tears streamed down his face. Kote shot him a look, not bothering to mention just how arrogant  _ he  _ was. Whenever the kid got a chance Rex was showing off his skill and claiming he was a better shot than most of the CC-class troopers.  _ That  _ announcement had made several of Kote’s batchmates to either warm up to Rex or despise him. Thankfully, most enjoyed the level of confidence Rex had. Kote could only hope, when the day came, his superiors would too. “You know, if you ever get tired of drawing plain old cats, you should try drawing me. I’m  _ much  _ more handsome than any animal you can find in the datapad archives.” Arrogant  _ and  _ conceited. 

Kote lightly kicked at Rex’s thigh. “Well, I have quite a lot of you, don’t worry.” 

That had his little brother perking up, a grin on his face. “Wait, really? Can—can I see?” 

Kote looked at Rex’s wide brown eyes, the genuine curiosity and happiness in them, and smiled as he moved to grab his hidden stash of flimsiplast from his sheets. He had sorted them together by folding them into different parts—one with the animals Kote had drawn, one with guns and equipment, one of his brothers, one with the trainers and long-necks (that pile was decidedly smaller than the others). Kote grabbed the flimsiplast and handed them over to Rex, who had a small smile on his face as he flipped through all of the pieces Kote had made. 

He paused on one—Rex, leaning against one of his batchmates with a grin on his face and his hands between his knees—and ran a finger around the outline of his brother. Suddenly, Kote remembered that most of Rex’s squad had died in an accident not too long ago. Kote reached over and soothed at Rex’s back. “Did he have a name?” 

“Nah. He was searching for one though. Said he wanted a good one in Mando’a, like you.” Rex shifted the flimsiplast and looked at the next set of drawings. He teased Kote for caring so obviously for him, but he was grinning widely as he said so and Kote could only smile back at his little brother. “Where did you even get all this flimsiplast from?” 

“Jango. He used to bring some by sometimes. He stopped, but I saved as much as I could.” Kote hadn’t seen Jango much anymore besides in passing or when he would pull Boba away from clones. He could see what was happening, the distance Jango had created between them all had only deepened. Kote thought about how, when he was younger and small, like Boba, how he would call the man buir to himself. Jango was not around for Kote and his batchmates like he was for the Alpha-class ( _ they _ could hold whole conversations in Mando’a without missing a beat. Kote was lucky he was able to learn from them more then the simple words Jango had taught him) and he was definitely not around for troopers like Rex. 

Rex was quiet for a long time before asking, “What’s he like? The template?”

Kote scratched at his eyebrow as he thought of how to answer. 

The razor in Kote’s hand nicked his chin and he scowled at himself as a spot of red began to form just underneath his mouth. “Shabuir,” he whispered to himself as he moved to finish the shave. Kote did not like facial hair one bit, not like a lot of his vode did, some of which were beginning to try and grow theirs out and see how it came in. Most were patchy and just plain  _ bad  _ in Kote’s opinion, but his vode were all excited to show off what they had grown. 

Fox in particular had a bad overgrown mustache that Kote poked fun of and had drawn the growth progression of in his dwindling supply of flimsiplast. 

Not long after the topic of facial hair became popular among the vode, the discussion of different hair styles and even tattoos began to pop up. Fox claimed he wanted to get a tattoo of the sun on his ass, Blitz wanted to get a PLX-1 Rocket Launcher on his left bicep, Gree wanted to get a script of Kashyyyk along his chest. Kote would listen to each of his vode talk about what they would want to ink onto their bodies and, later, he found himself making designs of them in his remaining pages. 

They probably wouldn’t be able to get any tattoos until they were done with training or even until they were off of Kamino and instead off in battles. However, Kote would sneak extra fruit into his bunk, carefully drawing his designs along them to get a grasp on how to draw on skin. He didn’t necessarily like feeling like he was wasting food, especially something as decadent as  _ fruit _ , but he had seen the longnecks throw out any extra into the waste shoots that went towards their greenhouse, so Kote didn’t feel all too bad about it. It still ended up in the same place after he was done anyways.

The first person he drew on was Rex. A pen in hand, Kote leaned over on a stool next to the lowest pod he had commandeered for his use as he carefully drew a mythosaur skull in between his shoulder blades. Rex breathed out through his nose and squirmed a little, Kote careful not to mess up the lines whenever he did. “I don’t think I ever want a tattoo,” Rex said. 

“Really? Lot of the vode want to get some. Takes a lot to stand out in a crowd like ours, a tattoo could make a world of difference.” Kote held his breath as he finished the last stroke. “There we go. Looks alright.” 

“I’ll take your word for it ori’vod,” Rex said as he attempted to get a look at his back. 

Kote grabbed Rex’s arm and began to draw a series of Mando’a letters along his bicep. “Always took you as the kind who’d want to stand out as much as he can. You sure fight like you do.” Rex settled a look on him and, well, sure, technically Kote  _ did  _ fight some droids with his bare hands after his blaster had karked up in the middle of a test, but that wasn’t him trying to stand out or gloat. He was just doing what he was made to do. Rex, on the other hand, could do a whole song and dance with the show he put on. 

A few of their vode passed by the bunk to watch or to make requests for when Kote finished with Rex, and it wasn’t until they were relatively alone again that Rex said, “I wanna dye my hair. Not sure what really, but something at the very least. Maybe blonde.” 

Kote raised an eyebrow. Blonde. Huh. “That’d sure be a look vod’ika.” 

Rex preened, puffing out his chest and raising his chin as he grinned. “Right? I’d  _ definitely  _ work it better than any of you guys. Your ugly mugs couldn’t handle the blonde lifestyle.” Kote snorted this time and shook his head. What a riot this kid was. 

With the right amount of badgering and courteousness, Kote had been able to get a trainer to bring in a tattoo machine, along with extra synthskin. Working with an actual needle was different then working with a pen or marker, the vibrations shifted up his arm and if he pressed too hard or too soft the ink wouldn’t go on right. Whenever he could get away with it, Kote practiced getting used to the feel, the pressure, and the resistance of the needle. He made abstract designs on the synthskin and showed it off to his little brother whenever he could.

“Sure you don’t want to get something like this?” Kote asked as he pressed the synthskin over Rex’s heart. The design was of a heart that said ‘ _ Rex loves his big brother’ _ in Mando’a. He had specifically made it because he had known it would irritate his little brother. Rex, who couldn’t read a lick of Mando’a outside of his name, squinted down at it. “Nobody would want to mess with you after seeing this on you.” 

Rex leveled him with a look. “Sure, sure, like I’m some cadet with sparkles in my eyes. No way am  _ I _ going to trust you with a needle of permanent ink and a language I can’t read.” Kote laughed and let Rex grab the synthskin to look closer at the tattoo. “You’re getting real good vod. If I didn’t have such a handsome face I would consider letting you put something on it.” 

Kote smiled and shoved his brother lightly with his shoulder.

There was a young cadet, maybe two years younger than Kote, who was watching him from across the medical room. Whenever Kote glanced over, the kid quickly turned away and began to recount bacta patches in a drawer. Eventually, Kote gestured the kid over to watch as he finished up the tattoo he was working on. The synthskin was connected onto a cybernetic arm, which was better then small pieces since this gave him a much better idea how to work with the curves of an arm. 

“You got a name?” Kote asked as he examined what he had so far. The Krayt dragon was complex with all it’s little parts, but it curled nicely around the cybernetic’s bicep. This piece was taking him days to finish, but, Kote had learned, the thrill came with the process.

The kid perked up. “CC-9—”

“I said name cadet.” Kote eyed the kid. 

“Oh, um. Moon. I’m a sister. I’ve drawn before, on a datapad, but this looks so much different. Could you teach me, ori’vod? How to—how to do this?” Her eyes were wide and earnest with curiosity as she met his own. 

“You’ll have to practice first using other methods.” Kote began, watching her face as Kote began to explain the different processes she would have to go through before he felt comfortable giving her a needle. Moon nodded along and asked questions, making Kote smile slightly as she did. He could work teaching her if she was this attentive to detail. “I’m Kote by the way.”

“Co- _ dee _ ,” Moon carefully pronounced. It was slightly butchered, the beginning syllable softened, the hard consonant of the ‘t’ rounded, the ‘e’ too elongated, but Kote nodded his head in affirmative anyways. It was good as it could get from someone unfamiliar with Mando’a, which, Kote thought as he turned back to finish the krayt dragon, he would have to rectify. 

Life continued as normal. 

Until, finally, war broke out. 

The Jedi were an interesting lot. Or, at least, the Jedi Cody worked under were interesting. 

General Kenobi would stop to have conversations with shiny’s and, at the end of each campaign so far, would lead Cody to their shared private meeting room, which was virtually obsolete since Kenobi always brought meetings out in the open for Commander Skywalker and a few clones to chime in while planning for missions, to offer him warm tea mixed with alcohol. Cody often declined the alcohol, but he’d seen General Kenobi add about a few drops into his cup plenty of times. The man was calm and collected and had a tongue on him that made Cody glad that half the time they were fighting droids and not people who could actually process what he said. 

All that General Kenobi was, of course, couldn’t prepare the best equipped for that Jedi Padawan of his. Commander Skywalker spoke to everyone like they were on the same level, unless he was speaking to everyone, even General Kenobi, like he knew best and should do only what he wanted. The team that worked closely with Skywalker included Rex, who spoke nothing but praises about the young man even if he complained about his liberal use of the Force. 

“I’ve heard around that apparently Skywalker’s as powerful of a Jedi as they come,” Rex had once told Cody as they walked through the halls of the aptly named  _ Negotiator. _

“The kid eats bugs for fun in the middle of fights.” Cody had answered with a roll of his eyes. Rex had laughed at that, even as those stars in his eyes for Commander Skywalker kept shining. 

Cody was sitting in the meeting room, crossed-legged on an uncomfortable chair, a cup of tea next to his hand as he idly viewed documents on a datapad. The left side of his face felt strained and he cursed the damn injury he had gotten a few days earlier. He had been lucky enough not to lose his eye  _ or _ his life. He sighed as he set down the datapad and instead grabbed a piece of flimsi and a pen. 

The pen’s pressure was off and, for some reason, it was large and green and had a varactyl head bouncing back and forth on a spring at the very top, but Cody made do as he began to draw. The last few months had been overwhelming and tiresome. Even though Cody had trained all his life for this it was nice to have a moment alone and to draw again. Cody had done several tattoos for his vode throughout the months (and had gotten his very own from an ecstatic Moon before he had even left Kamino) ranging from sayings to twi’lek musicians to animals and even symbols. This, though, was nice. He missed the way flimsiplast was smooth and easy to maneuver; he missed the ease of which he could draw something for pleasure. 

He found himself sketching out a familiar lightsaber, the damn thing had ended up in his hands quite a lot during battles that Cody could say that his depiction of General Kenobi’s weapon was correct, down to the minute scratches along the bottom of the hilt. Not long after Cody was drawing Commander Skywalker with that little braid of his and a wide grin, Rex with his new buzz cut and striking blonde hair, General Kenobi with a serious face, and even the curve of the fresh scar forming near his eye. 

As the months passed, Cody realized that the amount of flimsiplast kept in the meeting room had increased, and the pens in the room had only gotten better. In the middle of conversation with General Kenobi, Cody had grabbed a piece of flimsiplast and began to draw the man’s tired face. 

“Quite impressive.” Kenobi remarked as he sipped at his alcoholic tea. Cody eyed the man as he began to draw another figure without looking at his hands. “I’m being completely sincere dear! I’ve seen the vode with quite impressive designs on their armor, but nothing like what I have seen in your artwork.”

“Most of the vode haven’t been drawing for years.” Cody responded before letting his gaze move back to his hands. A figure with their hand raised in a salute. He sighed and began to add small features. “Ja—The template brought my batch flimsiplast once and I hoarded nearly all of it for myself.”

“It’s wonderful that you have a hobby.” He could hear Kenobi’s smile in his voice. “If it is not too intrusive to ask, are you one of the tattoo artists floating about among the troopers?”

Cody smirked and met the man’s eyes. “I may be.” 

Kenobi’s eyes gleamed as he laughed. “You are a man of many skills Commander Cody.” When Cody let himself smile back, he could feel the left side of his face tighten, restricting his mouth to move any further, but Kenobi beamed even brighter at Cody’s smile. “Perhaps you can give me a touch-up or even a new design.” 

Add that onto the list of interesting qualities to the Jedi. A tattoo. He could only wonder what it could be, perhaps something Jedi-related. There were plenty of Jedi with tattoos, but from what Cody gathered most Jedi who did have them only did so because of their cultural background. With how Kenobi was, the answer to the tattoo mystery could only be a surprise. Cody hummed in acknowledgment, “We’ll see.” 

The sketches on flimsiplast went on: two Jedi sitting side by side, blasters surrounded by flowers, a brother holding a twi’lek child, another crying with their head turned up towards the sky, charred remains of battle droids, a Jedi standing atop of a pile of droids, a little Commander next to her Jedi Master, a figure with multiple arms with hands filled with stolen lightsabers. 

The war went on, month after month, and Cody watched and fought and drew and held onto others and cried and laughed and  _ lived _ . He drew what he had seen, what he imagined, he etched scenes and figures and words into the skin of his vode. 

“Do you have a tattoo Cody?” Ahsoka asked as she sat on top of the table, rubbing at a stain of grass and dirt along her knee. “Rex doesn’t have any, says he can’t ruin his good looks for them.” She rolled her eyes and scoffed.

Cody, wholly unprepared for the young girl to find her way into the  _ Negotiator’s  _ meeting room, glanced up at her and raised an eyebrow. The girl gave him a sheepish grin before moving to find an actual seat. Once she was settled, Cody sighed. “I do.”

That made the Commander sit up straight and grin as she leaned forward. “Really? What do you have? I bet it’s something practical, like a phrase in Mando’a. You definitely seem the type.” Her dark eyes were wide and when Cody just stared at her over his datapad, she grasped her hands together and pouted. 

“I have a mythosaur on my back.” Cody answered as he signed off on a shipment of droid poppers. A plan General Skywalker had enacted had made half a case explode so Force knew they would need some more. “Fills up my whole back. It was one hell of a job, but thanks to my good healing it didn’t take all too long to finish up.” 

Ahsoka hummed. “Wow. Did it hurt?” 

Cody eyed her with another lift of his eyebrow. “You’re not trying to get anything done are you? Because you are  _ way _ too young. Not to mention that Skywalker and Kenobi would kill you if they ever found out. Which they would.” 

“They don’t know everything!” Ahsoka exclaimed as she crossed her arms. 

“Nope, but word travels fast in the GAR.” Cody said as he took a sip of the caf he had made earlier. It was too bitter, not as sweet as the tea Obi-Wan expertly made, but Cody wasn’t about to waste anything. “You’ll have to wait until you’re older.” 

The girl groaned, but accepted the answer. Instead, she brought the conversation back towards his tattoo and why he chose a mythosaur. Cody answered each of her questions until her comm went off and she had to rush off to meet with General Skywalker for some Jedi training business. Which either meant they were actually going to be good, or cause Cody, Rex, and Kenobi a collective headache. “Bye Cody. It was nice talking to you!” Ahsoka gave him a wave as she walked off, like her presence in the room and speaking to Cody was expected. 

Cody smiled and rolled his eyes. 

Their backs were pressed together and the small compound that the 212th and 501st had made for the night was relatively quiet and alert. Cody leaned his head back as he glanced up at the planet’s array of stars. They were beautiful, the night clear of clouds so that Cody could make out everything. Idly, he drew into the soft dirt underneath his hand. 

Rex spoke quietly, so much so that Cody almost didn’t hear him, “I have a bad feeling.”

“About right now?” Cody asked, not yet jumping into action. He had grown to trust whatever bad feeling Rex had gotten. He was nearly as accurate as their Jedi Generals were when it came to predicting a struggle. 

“No. Not now.” Rex sighed and shook his head against Cody’s own. Cody leaned forward and etched a lightsaber into the dirt. “But, someday soon,” he paused and let out a shaky breath, “sorry, just. I keep on having bad dreams, I guess it’s affecting me more than I thought.” 

Cody turned slightly, moving Rex’s head to rest on his shoulder. Bad dreams were becoming more and more common for the vode. For Cody. He would find himself awake and do anything he could to make his mind rest. “Sleep right here. It always used to help you when you were younger. I’m right here. Whatever bad dreams come, I’ll keep them away.” 

Rex smiled, even as something haunted passed over his eyes. “Thanks ori’vod. I can always rely on you.” He closed his eyes and slowly, slowly, began to relax. Cody moved his little brother to rest more comfortably on his lap and continued to draw into the dirt as the night wore on. All was quiet, enough so that when the Jedi moved outside for watch, Cody found himself falling asleep then and there, sitting up, his fingers still in the dirt. 

Commander. 

Cody. 

Kote. 

CC-2224. 

No matter who he became, what name he had, the urge to draw what he saw pricked at his fingertips. The jedi-scum that he had skewered through and the way the light in their eyes had left them, the troopers who stood blank-faced ( _ not right _ ), the sith lord that moved with grace despite his choppy breathing and loud steps. There was also the large mark of who he had once been that was inked across the entirety of his back. CC-2224 could see it whenever he changed for the night in front of the large mirror kept in his bunk, the large dragon-like monster on his body. It was the mark of an individual. 

It made his breath catch each and every time.

Inside of its peaks and dips were the memories and life of someone else, someone just out of reach. Others who had shaped that individual with their actions and smiles and care. CC-2224 closed his eyes and shook his head, forcing himself to look away. He kept those urges at bay and instead covered up and fell into his bunk, alone and quiet.

**Author's Note:**

> I ummm didn't mean to end this like sadly?? I always like to give my stuff happy endings in some way but um? I realized all this was building up to SOMETHING so :( oops 
> 
> But yeah the contrast between the beginning as Cody learns how to draw while surrounded by his vode and the ending where he is all alone and has lost everyone he had a bond with :"( Please tell me what you think and leave a kudos if you enjoyed <33
> 
> Mando'a:  
> ke’pare- Wait  
> Gedet’ye- Please


End file.
